


There's never a right time to say goodbye

by Elisexyz



Category: Stitchers (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, s03e08 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-16 06:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11823183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: Maggie finds Fisher a transfer to DC. Camille tries to not be too affected by the news.





	There's never a right time to say goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> After making [this gifset](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/164300902859) on Camille’s face (Jesus Christ, her _face_ , I can’t even) when Fisher told her about his wife’s new job in DC, I just couldn’t get out of my head this idea of Maggie actually finding the transfer and Fisher planning on leaving. So. Here’s Fisher about to move to DC and Camille angsting (a lot) over it.  
>  For more of me trying to expand the Cisher fandom ~~all on my own~~ , you can find me on my Stitchers tag on Tumblr as [heytheredeann](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/tagged/stitchers). The title has been stolen from [here](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/chrisbrown/saygoodbye.html). Enjoy! 

“I’m- so glad that things between you guys are working out,” she says. She lets out a lifeless chuckle, but he doesn’t seem to sense the absence of sincerity behind it. Maybe he just ignores it.

“Thanks,” he replies, smiling fondly. That’s the same smile that he offered whenever she was feeling down, insecure, weak- she’ll never see it again. “I’m going to miss this- our team.”

She nods, smiling bitterly. “Yeah.”

 

-

Camille keeps looking at him as they interrogate a suspect together. She keeps glancing and gravitating towards him, as if to absorb as much of him as she can, now that she still has time.

There’s a knot at the pit of her stomach, and it feels like she’s about to throw up. She swallows, because she has a job to do and she can’t spoil his happiness with her problems.

“Hey, you seem quieter than usual,” Fisher remarks. He touches her arm slightly, the way he does when he wants to non-verbally provide closeness and reassurance, they way he did so many times and would never do again. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, you know,” she shrugs. “The break-up, and- everything.”

He stares at her silently for a couple of seconds, thoughtfully licking his lips. “You know you can always talk to me, right?” he says.

“I know,” she smiles. 

“It’ll get better,” he assures. “Just takes a little time.”

She inhales as she nods. It’s difficult to get air in, it’s like it’s gotten thick or something. I’ll get better. People get over heart-break all the time. And it’s not like she isn’t used to losing people, right? She’s just usually the dropper, that’s all. _Getting_ dropped twice in so little time is- something. But she can get over it, as always. Just takes a little time.

 

-

“Guys, I have something to tell you,” Fisher announces, at case solved, when they are all relaxed and joyful. Camille, actually, just wants to run away as soon as Fisher opens his mouth.

She opens up a couple of tabs on her tablet, pretending to be super-busy. She hopes to sell the image of the one who barely gives a shit about this. Who’s happy for her friend. Who doesn’t egoistically feel like he’s abandoning her at the worst possible moment.

“My wife took a job in DC,” Fisher says. Camille can’t help glancing at him, and he’s smiling. He looks happy. He said he’d miss them. She wonders if it’s true. After all, everyone always says that romantic love trumps everything else, right? “And since we are back together and Maggie was kind enough to look into a transfer for me- I’m going too.”

A couple of seconds of silence follow the announcement, then everyone starts talking, congratulating him, saying that they’ll miss him, asking when he’s leaving. They all seem pretty happy for him. Guess Camille is the only selfish prick here, then.

Fisher will leave in five days, enough time to get some things in order, probably not nearly enough for Camille to get used to the idea.

“We should go grab a beer,” Cameron announces. “Celebrate your marriage, say goodbye…”

“What’s with you and beers?” Fisher grins.

Camille slips away before she can hear the ending of that conversation, hiding in the coffee room and resisting the urge to throw the tablet away. With the door closed, she almost can’t hear the voices outside anymore.

How can they all be so _happy?_ Really, wouldn’t it be more natural to be upset? Are they just good actors?

Maybe it’s just her. It actually makes sense, considering that she’s lonely and heart-broken and Fisher has kinda become her support network. He’s leaving. She can’t help thinking that it’s not _fair_. It’s not fair that he is moving away, it’s not fair that she can’t be happy for him as she should. She finds herself wishing that Maggie hadn’t found him a transfer. What would he have done then? Would he have dropped everything to be with his wife? It feels like the chances are slim.

“Hey, Camille,” Kirsten calls, poking her head inside. “We’re going out for drinks, you coming?”

Camille licks her lips, putting on a big, fat smile. “No, sorry,” she says. “I have stuff to do. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Kirsten raises her eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, I’ve recently been dumped by my girlfriend, I don’t know about that,” she points out.

“I can stay with you, if you want,” Kirsten offers. Concerned-friend is a look that somehow still doesn’t suit her.

“No, it’s fine,” Camille replies. “Go have fun, I’ll be alright.”

Just takes a little time.

 

-

When Fisher asks her to come with him to interrogate a suspect, she claims that she has to complete another assignment for Maggie. He looks half hurt and half disappointed, but he lets it go.

Camille really would have wanted to go, but she figured that it’s better to slowly detoxicate herself from Fisher, instead of having him ripping himself out of her life all of a sudden.

 

-

“Hey,” he says, walking faster to catch up with her. “Haven’t seen you around all day, are you up for a little training at my place tonight? Like- A last sparring session kind of thing.”

He’s smiling softly and Camille wants _so_ bad to say yes, but he’s _leaving_ , and as she looks at him the only thing she can picture is the empty space that he’s going to leave in her life.

“Sorry, Fisher, I can’t,” she declines. She makes sure to add a smile, but for a second there’s a flash of hurt on his face that makes her chest ache and her stomach drop. “I have plans. Maybe another time?”

There’s a slight grimace on his face as he nods. “Alright, I understand. It’s fine.”

“Thanks for the offer though,” she remarks. “Goodnight, Fishy.”

“’Night, tough guy.”

She turns away from him with a smile on her face. It fades quickly as soon as she starts thinking again. Now, mixed with the images of a future without him, there’s the memory of the disappointment on his face. She hopes that at very least the detox will actually help her coping.

 

-

The following day, she calls in sick.

Maggie is comprehensive and tells her to call with an update that night. Well, it’s not like Camille is fundamental for the lab to work.

She spends the day watching tv and eating delivery food. She receives a couple of messages from Kirsten and Linus, one from Fisher too. She can’t stop staring at it, overwhelmed by a crushing feeling of loneliness.

Kirsten and Cameron have each other, Linus- well, she could run back to Linus, but it wouldn’t be fair to either of them, because he wants more than she feels like offering him, and she has just broken up with Amanda and Fisher is leaving, Linus would be just a replacement and that’s not _fair_ , he’s her friend and she’s not doing that to him.

She almost cries at a stupid romantic movie, and that says something on her mental state at the moment. She physically feels the need for arms holding her, comforting her. She has no one to do that, no one to even offer a reassuring word. She regrets telling Kirsten to stay at Cameron’s now.

 

-

It’s already night when she decides to get out, get some fresh air in. Her hair is a mess and her eyes are suffering after all that TV, but she doesn’t care.

She can’t help wondering what she’ll do next. She can’t avoid him until he leaves. It’s likely that even if she tried, he would come knocking to get a proper goodbye. It’s only fair, they are friends, they confide in and rely on each other, she can’t expect him to just- go.

But maybe it’d be for the best. She’s not sure that, when push comes to shove, she’ll be able to just smile, say goodbye, pretend to be okay with it because that’s what he wants. Truth is, she feels like he’s making a big mistake. But she’s also self-aware enough to know that this may only be because she doesn’t want him to go, period, no matter the reasoning behind it.

Maybe she should get a drink.

 

-

It’s way past midnight when she knocks on his door. She’s not exactly _drunk_ , she left before she stopped being able to stand upright, but right now there’s barely any filter preventing her from saying anything that comes to her mind. And she couldn’t find a good enough reason to not do this now.

“Camille,” he frowns. “What are you doing here? I thought you were sick.”

“Nah,” she chuckles. “Just didn’t feel like working.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Not _really_ ,” she clarifies. “Just a little. Figured I’d come say my goodbyes now, so I can avoid you until you go.”

He raises his eyebrows, staring at her for a couple of seconds. “Alright, let’s talk inside, yeah?”

“You know,” she goes on, getting in and noticing proudly that she still can walk on a straight line, at least. “It’s not that I don’t like you or that I don’t want to be clingy and needy until you go, I don’t want you to be offended, I just think it’s best for me if I start training myself to be alone here, you know?”

He gently grabs her arm, trying to guide her. “I can walk,” she protests. He lets go, but he stays near.

“Let’s sit, alright?” he offers. They settle at the table, Fisher on her right. He swallows visibly. “You are not alone, you know,” he says. “You have a family in that lab-”

“ _Please_ ,” she interrupts, chuckling bitterly. “Kirsten and Cameron are _all_ over each other, Linus is- he’s complicated, and I don’t want to give false hope, you know? And I don’t _talk_ to them like that.”

“Maybe you should,” he shrugs. “They love you.”

“I know,” she says, carrying the “o” and lowering her voice as she rolls her eyes. “But it’s _different_.”

He sighs, massaging his mouth with his right hand. “I won’t disappear,” he finally says. “You can always call me.”

“Not the same thing, Fishy, and you know it.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, lowering his eyes. “I do.”

Silence follows, and Camille feels her brain filling with emotions in a matter of seconds, as he thinks about the sparring session she refused to have but wanted to have, about the touch on her arm and the smiles and the _talks_ \- Her eyes start filling with tears, and she doesn’t know how to hold them back, not now.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, as tears start flowing and she can’t contain them in any way. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine,” he says, leaning a little closer, smiling, stroking her arm. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s _not_ ,” she lets out, shaken by uncontrollable sobs. “I wanted to spar, you know,” she confesses. “I really wanted to, but it’s _difficult_ -”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’m not leaving tomorrow, we can still do it.”

“I should be happy for you,” she says. She’s almost screaming. “And I should stop crying, but I can’t, I swear, I’m trying and I can’t be happy either because I don’t _want_ you to leave, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say this, forgive me-”

“Hey, hey, Camille,” he calls. He’s grabbing both of her shoulders now, his face is close to hers and she is looking directly into his eyes, even if everything is blurry and it’s embarrassing that she’s crying so damn much. “Listen to me. It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry you are suffering, I really am, but it’s okay to be sad, alright? I- I’m pretty sad too.”

“Well, you’re good at pretending then,” she mumbles, her eyes drifting away.

“Because I’m happy too. I’m leaving people I love to be with someone I love, it’s- I lose something either way.”

“I wish you would lose her,” she says, before she can stop herself. It’s in the following second of silence that she realizes exactly what she- _Jesus_. “I’m sorry,” she immediately apologizes, her eyes wide. Fisher has let go of her shoulders, his eyes are on the ground now. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, she’s your wife, you love her, you absolutely have a right to-”

“Calm down,” he says. He offers a smile, but it lucks a little of feeling. Camille’s stomach drops. “It’s okay, I understand.”

“You hate me now,” Camille mumbles. She feels tears filling her eyes once again. “I’m so _selfish_ \- I’m so sorry, Fisher, really-”

“Camille,” he calls, leaning closer once again. “No one hates anybody here. Alright? And I think it’s time that I put you to bed.”

“I can’t sleep,” she replies. “I don’t want to sleep, you are leaving, I want to stay with you, I was stupid before, I’m sorry.”

“We can hang out tomorrow,” he says, standing up. “Come on,” he adds, as he puts his arm around her waist and guides her away from the table. She’s pretty sure that she can walk, but he’s close and he’s warm and for a second she doesn’t feel that lonely anymore, so she just leans on him, gripping his t-shirt tight and planning to not let go for a while.

He ends up making her lie on his bed and taking her shoes off, as well as her hoodie.

“Try to get some sleep, alright? I’ll be on the couch if you need me,” he says, standing in front of the door. He’s about to leave, when she calls out: “Wait.”

He stares at her questioningly.

“Can you- stay with me?” she asks. She feels stupid, but she doesn’t want to be alone, she can’t be alone. “Please?”

He looks at her silently for a couple of seconds, then he sighs. “Fine,” he says. “Just promise that you’ll sleep.”

“I will,” she assures, smiling happily as he settles next to her. Camille not-so-subtly moves closer, her cheek against his back. She mentally blames it on the alcohol and he doesn’t protest.

 

-

Camille wakes up with an epic hang-over, lying in a strange bed as the light of the day shines through the open door. She inhales, squeezing her eyes for a second as she- oh, _shit_. She’s at Fisher’s house. She came to _Fisher_ after _drinking_ and she was in the worst emotional state possible and- oh _God_. She said why too many things that she should have kept to herself. Shit, shit, she needs to make it up to him immediately.

She sits upright, ignoring how numb her muscles feel and how sharply her head hurts, carried by a glimmer of hope that Fisher hasn’t gotten out yet.

Of course, he has already left. There’s a note on the table that says that he had to go to work, that she can help herself with whatever she needs in the fridge or have a shower, and that medicines for the headache are in the top shelf in the bathroom.

Camille sighs. She does take a pill for the headache before looking for a phone. Good thing she knows most of her friends’ numbers by heart.

“ _Well, good morning, sunshine_ ,” Fisher answers. “ _How’s the head?”_

“Awful, thank you very much,” she replies. “Uh, I- Listen, I’m so sorry for yesterday, I was way over the line and I shouldn’t-”

“ _Relax_ ,” he cut her off. “ _To be honest, I was starting to think that you were avoiding me because you were mad_.”

“Absolutely not!”

“ _I know now_.”

She nods, even if he can’t see her. “I- You still up for hanging out a little?”

“ _Tonight?”_

“Yeah.”

“ _Sure_ ,” he replies. She can’t help smiling slightly. “ _Sparring or dinner?”_

“I don’t know? Whatever you want, I guess.”

“ _How about you take a shower, borrow some of my clothes and wait for me to get there? It’s already way past two and it’d be nice to have someone to come home to for a change_.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem anymore,” she chuckles bitterly. He stays silent for a second, and she doesn’t give him the time to come up with an answer. “Fine by me, anyway. Thank you.”

“ _My pleasure. Don’t use all my hot water_.”

“I won’t make any promises.”

 

-

That evening, Camille waits until they are already eating to get to it.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I know that I said many things- I shouldn’t have spoiled the moment, this is important for you, and I made it all about me.”

“Stuff like that wouldn’t happen if you just opened up in the first place,” he points out.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” she replies, sarcastically. “I am apologizing here and he _lectures_ me.”

“I’m not lecturing, it’s just not good to shove everything down until you explode.”

“You are lecturing. And _come on_ , I couldn’t just come to you and explain how selfish I am.”

“I am your _friend_ ,” he says, empathizing the last word. “I want to know if you are suffering, especially if it’s my fault.”

“But it’s not your _fault_ , she’s your _wife_ and it’s _right_ to go-”

“I won’t stop being there for you, you know,” he interrupts. “I know it comes with bad timing, with Amanda and everything, but- I won’t disappear, I mean it. We can call, and I’ll visit. You guys are my family, I’m not throwing you all away.”

She swallows, closing her eyes for a second. “Fisher,” she says, slowly. “You can say that you won’t disappear, and you can _mean_ it, but you’ll be _on the other side_ of the country. You’ll be far, and- this changes relationships.”

He inhales, lowering his gaze. “I know,” he says.

They eat the rest of their dinner in silence, for the most part.

 

-

It’s the last day. Night. Whatever. Fisher is leaving in the morning, and that _asshole_ that’s supposed to be her roommate is spending the night at Cameron’s. Figures.

Camille will just fix herself a bottle of whiskey and try to survive until the morning, when they’ll all go with Fisher to the fucking airport, to say goodbye with hugs and smiles like a good supporting family and then just watch as he leaves, without lifting a finger to stop it, because it’s his choice and they have no right to tell him that he should _stay_.

Well, she did tell him that, but she was drunk, it doesn’t count. She feels guilty about it, but also- she’d probably do it again, if it could make a difference.

A knock on the door. She wonders if Kirsten changed her mind, and she contemplates leaving her out there to die, to teach her a lesson. She doesn’t want to get up, the couch is comfortable. Another knock. She huffs as she puts down her glass and sits up. When she opens the door, it’s not Kirsten she’s staring at.

“Fisher?” she frowns. She’s not drunk enough to have hallucinations, come on.

“I’m not going,” he says. Yep, she’s definitely imagining him.

“Great, I’m seeing things now,” she mumbles. “I knew that stuff was good, but not _this_ good.”

He squints as if he could hardly believe how stupid she’s being – and that’s _very_ Fisher –, then he rolls his eyes. “I’m real,” he says. “And I’m telling you, I’m not going anywhere.”

She stares at him for a couple of seconds, thoughtfully biting her bottom lip. “Sure,” she mumbles. She lays a punch on his arm.

“Hey,” he protests, looking offended. Holy _shit_ , he feels- he totally feels _real_.

“I’m not seeing things,” she says.

“ _No_ ,” he says, exasperated. “And I’d very much like to get in because I just broke up with my wife, _again_ , and I need a drink and a friend now.”

Camille steps aside, still processing what the hell is going on. It’s only when Fisher is already sitting on the couch and pouring himself a glass of whiskey that she finds the voice to ask: “So- you’re staying?”

“Yeah,” he says, taking a sip.

“How- What the hell, Fisher, what made you change your mind at the last second?” she asks, and- she doesn’t know why it comes out _angry_ , but- _Jesus_ , he was about to leave, she struggled to make peace with it- she didn’t manage, but _still_ -

“We didn’t work out once,” he explains. “And _I_ haven’t changed a bit, _she_ doesn’t seem to have changed a bit, I love her, but I don’t know what the hell we were doing. I was about to drop my work here and my team because of something that will probably not even last and- I don’t know. I realized that I am not so sure I want to do it, after all.” He pauses, staring at the glass in his hand. “And I thought you’d be happy anyway,” he adds, shooting her a look that says _what the hell, Camille_.

She inhales. “I _am_ ,” she says, taking a couple of steps towards him and dropping on the couch. “I mean, I- Are you _sure?_ It’s just that you seemed pretty convinced and, I mean, a little fear is normal-”

He starts laughing humourlessly. “Jesus, I can’t believe that you are actually trying to convince me to go,” he says. “Has anyone ever told you that you are a bit of a masochist?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m trying to make sure that you don’t regret this in a week,” she says, sarcastically. She grabs the bottle of whiskey. “I’m just trying to look out for you, you ingrate.”

“I know, I know,” he replies. “It’s just that I’m pretty sure this is the right call. Leaving was a rushed decision, I hadn’t put that much thought into it before it was official. Maggie found me a transfer so easily and- I feel I’d regret it, if I left.”

Camille nods, tightening her lips. “Is it bad that I am so relieved?” she asks, grinning slightly.

“I’d be offended if you weren’t,” he grins back, taking another sip.

“How did she take it?”

He pauses, staring blankly at the nothingness for a couple of seconds. He shrugs. “Not well. She’ll understand.”

“I’m sorry,” Camille says. Before she can think better of it, she is sliding closer, so now they are arm against arm.

“Liar,” he chuckles.

“I _am_ sorry for her, you jerk,” she protests, slapping him playfully in the arm. “But yeah,” she adds. “I’m- really glad you’re staying.”

He nods, emptying his glass. “I think I am too.”

They exchange a smile, in a mutual understanding that _it’s okay, we’re together and we’ll be fine_. It’s not difficult at all to believe it right now.


End file.
